The Courier's Return
by Phantom Pendragon
Summary: Three years after Hoover Dam, the Courier is back in the Mojave. A forgotten threat has returned to the wasteland and the Courier must reunite his old crew once more to stop it. Features all companions from New Vegas with plenty of twists and an original plot line. Rated T for occasionly graphic violence
1. Return

Chapter One: Return

The stars hung in the sky like an explosion that had been frozen in its midst. Sparks of white glinted and shimmered like precious gems, shining proudly where they could through the smog of New Vegas.

Arcade Gannon had stepped outside into the night to clear his head and, as usual, found himself lost in the beauty of the night. He recognized ursa major, and ursa minor. He saw Orion and his gleaming belt , joined by his dogs. He knew the names of every constellation, he had studied them night after night, but he never got used to jut how many there were.

Around him, the old Mormon Fort had grown silent. He could hear the scattered snores of the refugees in the tents, a gentle bustle from the direction of the Strip and somewhere a dog barking but for the most part he had the evening to himself. He took a seat by the glowing embers of the fire and put a log on it. He coaxed it into being with some kindling, smiling as he remembered how his old friend had taught him how.

Three years, he thought. It had been three years since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, where the now legendary Courier had lead his makeshift army to victory against Caesar's Legion. Arcade remembered the battle as if it were yesterday; NCR and Legion clashed, lead flying backhand forth. Artillery rained down on the Legions camp even as an old world plane soared over the battlefield, laying waste with its bombs.

It went on for hours, he remembered that well. He was there in his power armor, right alongside Veronica in her's, and beside them the Brotherhood of Steel and the Remnants of the course, they were the calvary, the Courier had been fighting from the start.

He remembered coming over the ridge and seeing them. Cass was in the thick of it, firing her shotgun and lobbing dynamite while running from cover to cover. Rual, the ghoul, was wearing his vaquero outfit and firing a revolver in each hand. He looked like some sort of avenging spirit come from the grave. Surrounded by dozens of legionaries was Lilly, the mostly crazy super mutant. She was waving her sword made from a verti-bird blade back and forth, hacking her foes to bits. Boone and First Recon were hard at work as well, as was proven by Legion commanders suddenly collapsing in the distance from sniper fire.

Above them all though stood the Courier. He wore a long duster over his body armor that was being blown around in the wind and explosions. He had a 45 caliber Thompson machine gun and was causing a swathe of death to everything in front of him. He had a medieval style broadsword at his side, a sword that Arcade still wasn't sure where it had come from. He had a look of determination and fearlessness that only one who has stared death in the face and spit could have.

He remembered Veronica leading a charge down the ridge, plasma and lasers blazing. He was sure they were a sight to see, over a hundred troops in power armor rushing down the hill, mini-guns and plasma rifles firing. Veronica got right down to business punching people, she had a gift for it after all. They began to pour up the path to where Ceasar's forces were camped. It was then, when the tide had begun to turn, that the battle came to its climax.

The commander of Ceasers Legion, Legate Lanius, came down the hill wearing gold colored armor and carrying a huge blade. He challenged the Courier to a duel, and against all odds he dropped his gun and drew his sword. They fought up and down, back and forth, oblivious to the anarchy around them. Above, on a cliff overhead, was Caesar himself, watching.

The Courier won the contest. He stabbed the Legate in the side, wounding him, before lopping off his head with a wide, sweeping arc of his blade. It was then that Caesar realized he had lost. He turned to run, to retreat, but never got the chance. Boone had seen him on that cliff, nearly a thousand yards away and with the wind buffeting the entire battlefield, and took the shot. When they found the body later, they realized the bullet had hit him just as he turned, hitting the back of his head and coming out right between his eyes.

Afterwards, the NCR managed to work out a deal with Mr. House, keeping the two on even terms. The various factions and alliances broke up and went their separate ways, including the Couriers followers.

They celebrated at the Lucky 38, casino together, drinking and laughing. Arcade had noticed a sadness in his friends eyes though, a reluctant realization that all things must end. He went and talked to each of them, thanking them for their help and wishing them the best. He spent much time talking with Cass, speaking in low whispers. When they had finished talking, Arcade could have sworn to have seen a tear in her eye.

The next morning, he was gone. Arcade suspected that Cass knew where he had gone, but she never said. The only answer she gave was that he had went to drift again, and they all accepted it. When the Courier left, they lost their reason to stay together and went their separate ways.

Arcade sighed. He missed the others, even Boone. He had kept in touch with Veronica, but she was too busy running the Brotherhood to visit. He received a letter from Cass now and again, and he tried to send her some medical supplies if she stuck in one place long enough. The others had just faded away, like a sandstorm in the Mojave.

"Three years is too long, don't you think?" said a familiar, scottish accent out of the dark.

Arcade spun around, hand on his plasma pistol. His eyes widened when he recognized the voice and familiar silhouette that leaned against the wall. It wore a long duster and his face was obscured by the shadow from his wide brimmed hat, only a faint outline being visible from the ember of a cigar.

"Leo?" Arcade asked, almost in a whisper.

"Glad to know you didn't forget me," the man answered, a grin in his voice. He stepped forward into the flickering light of the fire, revealing his face. It was him all right, his sharp, lean face and trademark grin illuminated by the fire. His dark blue eyes seem to radiate his smile, one of them partly covered by his unruly brown hair coming from under his hat. He had grown a beard and had kept it trimmed neatly.

"Leo!" Arcade dropped his gun and impede to his feet. The two friends embraced each other like old veterans reunited. Leonardo Lars, The Courier, the man who spat death in the face was back.

"What are you doing here?" Arcade asked after the greetings had been done.

"I decided to come back for a while," Leonardo explained sitting down next to the fire and motioned for Arcade to do the same. "The wasteland outside of the Mojave isn't nearly as hospitable as you'd think."

Arcade knew he was dodging the question, but let it slide. He was just glad to have his friend back.

"Tell me, Arcade, how are the others? I haven't run into any of them since I got back."

"I haven't seen much of them," Arcade admitted. "Veronica is running the Brotherhood now, and they have formed a sort of alliance with us Followers here."

"Head of the Brotherhood, eh?" Leo murmured, "Should have known that girl would go places."

"Boone joined back up with the NCR and I haven't heard from him since," Arcade continued. "Lily went back to Jacobstown, she seemed to be doing well with her condition."

"How about that rascal Rual?" Leo asked.

"It... Took him a while to adjust," Arcade said. "He wouldn't say it, of course, but it was pretty clear he didn't know what to do without his 'Boss'."

Leo took the cigar out of his mouth and breathed a puff of smoke out, a hint of guilt on his face. "He turned out OK though, right?" the courier asked.

Arcade smiled, "If you believe the stories. After you left he just sort of hung around for a month or so, helping out. Then, one day, he grabbed his gear and headed West, said something about Los Angeles. It wasn't long before stories started coming in about a ghost vaquero who protected the innocent and hunted the wicked."

Leo smiled. "Glad to hear it, there aren't enough guardian angles in the world."

"Yeah, they tend to take off and vanish," Arcade commented. He wasn't sure if his tone was meant to be accusatory or joking. Regardless, Leo's only response was to take a long draw from his cigar. There was silence for a while as Leo smoked, and both listened to the barking of that dog again as it started back up again.

"How is," the Courier began but faltered. He desperately wanted to ask the question, but was afraid of the answer. He coughed, clearing his throat before trying again. "How is Cass?"

Arcade thought about how to answer that for a moment, not sure what his friend was really asking. Did he want to know what she was doing, or if her heart was still broken? Not knowing the answer to the latter, he went with the first.

"She took the caps you gave her to rebuild her caravan business," Arcade said. "Of course the Crimson Caravan company owns the Cassidy name, so she calls it Whisky Rose Caravans now. They seem to be doing well, even offering Crimson some competition."

"Good for her," Leo said, but there was something in his voice that told Arcade that he was hoping to hear more than that.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before the Courier decided to change the subject. "So, have you been putting those caps to good use?"

After he left, Leo's friends had found a note, almost a will, he left for them. In it he offered no explanation, only instructions on what to do with his considerable fortune he had left. He had given Cass enough caps to start three caravan companies if she had wanted it and passed on his collection of technology to Veronica to study. To Rual went his treasured revolver "Lucky". Boone received some caps, but Leo knew he wouldn't want much. Instead he gave him a custom built, one of a kind anti-material rifle with the First Recon motto inscribed on the side: "The last thing you never see." Lily received plenty of caps for her medicine and Legate Lanius' sword. To Arcade he gave nearly everything else, telling him to use it to help people and aid the followers.

"Indeed I did," Arcade answered, "and still am. We managed to buy some top of the line medical equipment and, with the extra funds, have finally made Freeside livable. We even started a group to help people build houses. Crime has dropped to almost none, of course the NCR and Mr. House's securitrons help with that. I think we're really making a difference Leo."

"That's great, Arcade," Leonardo said. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Leo," Arcade said hesitantly, "don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here? I get the impression that you didn't come back just to check up on New Vegas."

Sighing, Leo took a final draw and then stamped out his cigar. That was a habit he had developed that Arcade was familiar with; it meant the catching up was finished and it was time for business.

"Arcade," the courier began, "while I was drifting, I kept hearing rumors. People vanishing, whole villages being turned to ghost towns overnight. Being the curious sort I am, I decided to investigate. Everywhere I went, there was no signs of struggle, no blood, bullets or laser burns, nothing.

"At the same time as these vanishing towns, I heard other stories. Stories of men in power armor dropping from the sky into Ghoul infested areas, and even peaceful ghoul communities. I investigated that too. Every ghoul was turned to ash, not a corpse left."

Arcade shuddered. What was he getting at?

"It couldn't be happenstance," Leo continued, "the two had to be related. So, I found a group of feral ghouls and followed them for about a week. I saw it happen, three verti-birds came in and dropped troops. They wiped out the ghouls, but one of them was injured. His friends got him out, but he had dropped something; a dog tag."

Leo was silent for a moment, and Arcade had to stop himself from screaming at him to finish, he did not like where this was going.

"He was Enclave," Leonardo finished. "The Enclave is back."

"What?" Arcade demanded, "That's impossible, we were wiped out. The only thing left of the enclave are the remnants who fought at the dam."

"A few towns in Kansas would beg to differ," Leonardo countered. "I managed to track some of them, but unfortunately I was caught. While I was captured I managed to overhear some information. Most of it was useless, but I heard them mention New Vegas several times, and it didn't sound like they were planning a charity drive."

Arcade was quiet for several moments, unsure of what to think. The Enclave, the last remains of the American government, belived that America should be restored to its former glory. Unfortunately they believed that in order to do this they had to wipe out the "impure", which meant basically anyone mutated by radiation and anyone who was not Enclave. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked, "What do you expect me to do, tell them to stop?"

"I'm telling you because I need your help," Leo said. "You grew up with the Enclave, your probably the only person outside of them who has any clue about how How they operate, how they think. I don't know what their planning, I didn't stick around long enough to find out, but it can't be good."

Arcade found himself getting angry. "I have a life here now," he said. "I'm making a difference, I'm helping hundreds of people and you want me to drop it all to follow you on some wild goose chase?"

"Why would I lie?" Leo asked. "This is very real, Arcade. I know your helping, I know your happy here. I'm not asking you to leave that behind, I'm asking you to help me preserve what you have accomplished. If the Enclave follow through with their plan, whatever it is, I can promise you that New Vegas will suffer and your three years of work burned up in an instant."

Arcade sighed, why did he always have to be so right?

"You've made your point," Arcade conceded. "What's the plan?"

"They mentioned supplies moving through the Caravans in New Vegas. The Crimson Caravan Company and another one, one that that ended in 'Rose'."

"Cass," Arcade concluded.

"Exactly," Leo said. "Their smuggling something around the Mojave using the caravans, probably right under their noses. I say we start there."

"So," Arcade said, "Its the pair of us against a crazy, xenophobic, old world obsessed shadow government intent on some nefarious scheme?"

Leo grinned. "Pretty much," he said, "Though it won't just be us. If their using the caravans, we're going to need a someone who knows caravans."

"Is this someone a red haired woman who has a taste for whisky?" Arcade offered.

A smirk appeared on Leo's face as he pulled another cigar from his pocket and lit it. "Indeed," the Courier said, taking a draw from his cigar. "We're off to find Rose of Sharon Cassidy."'


	2. The Road Least Traveled

Chapter Two: The Road Least Traveled

They left at sunrise the next morning. Arcade explained to Julie Farkas, the woman who ran the Followers in the area, that he had some business in the wastes to attend to. She was by no means happy her top researcher was leaving, but she couldn't make him stay. Instead she gave him some spare medical supplies for the journey. Leonardo kept his distance and his kept his hat low over his face while the two said goodbye. Arcade joined Leo and they headed out into Freeside.

"Why did you insist I not say who you were?" Arcade demanded. "If she had known it was you you could have saved her plenty of worry and us plenty of time."

"I don't particularly enjoy being harassed on the street," the courier answered. "By grateful people or young idiots trying to make a name for themselves by taking down the legendary Courier. Besides, I have enough enemies in the Mojave to want to keep a low profile."

Arcade shrugged, he had a point. "You are quite the legend, you know, even three years later. Any time things start getting out of hand between the factions someone is quick to point out that you wanted peace. In addition everyone except the legion is using you as a figurehead. The NCR fancies you a paragon of democracy, the Strip the leader of independence and so on and so forth."

"Hence the hat and beard," Leo responded. "The less people who know I'm here, the more I can focus on the job at hand."

"It must be tempting though," Arcade commented as they turned the corner, "Having the people bow in the street as you pass."

Leonardo sidestepped a few children who had come sprinting out of an alley, baseball bats in hand, in pursuit of a giant rat on the other side of the street. "A little," he admitted. "But there is a time and a place for heroes and legends. Times of strife need heroes, and wars need legends, but New Vegas is doing fine on its own steam."

They had reached the north gate at this point and pushed their way through it.

They gazed out at the long expanse of wasteland, dotted with crumbling buildings and crossed with cracking roads. The sun beat down on the brown dirt and dust, with the occasional pale green of plants breaking up the color palate.

"'I took the road least traveled by'," quoted the courier, "'and that made all the difference.'"

"What was that?" Arcade asked.

"It's from a pre-war poem," Leonardo explained.

"'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

'Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there,

Had worn them really about the same,

'And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

'I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.'"

Arcade was surprised, and rather impressed, that he had memorized the entire thing."I never figured you one for poetry," Arcade said, "is that a hobby you picked up in Kansas?"

"Nope," Leonardo replied with a grin, "I picked it up in Montana."

Arcade shook his head. He had forgotten that one of the most frustrating things about Leo was that you could never tell when he was kidding.

"Alright," Leo said, putting out the cigar that had been clamped in his teeth. "Last we heard was that Cass was operating out of up in Northern Nevada, so we'll head toward Elko. It's the biggest town there, so she will have passed through it sometime."

"From your quotation, I'd hazard a guess that we're not taking the comfortable, safe, scenic route?" Arcade asked.

"If you mean going through Utah and Salt Lake City than your right, we're not," Leo answered. "Were on a timetable here, so we dont have time for that. We'll trail blaze straight across Nevada."

"Are you sure that will be faster than taking the main road?" Arcade asked. His mind had filled with images of raider camps, cazador nests and fire geckos.

"With me leading it will be," Leo answered. "I kept our packs light so we will be able to make good time. We'll run out of supplies well before we reach Elko, but we can live off the land till then."

"Because the nuclear wasteland has such a plentiful bounty," Arcade quipped. He adjusted his hiking pack awkwardly. It certainly didn't feel that light, but than again he wasn't used to this kind of travel. In the old days they had just carried satchels or light backpacks and just enough food and water to get them to the next town. This was different, they were heading into the wilderness, away from old world towns and wasteland villages. The best they could hope to run into was a bighorn rancher; the worst was deathclaws.

Considering the length of the trip, they each carried external frame hiking packs. Leo had provided them both, showing he had planned well ahead for the journey.

"Relax," Leo said, "we'll be fine. Just keep a sharp eye out and your gun handy."

"Got it," Arcade answered, tapping the plasma pistol at his side. The only other weapon he carried was a "ripper", something like the cross between a sword and a chainsaw. He was not very good at close quarters combat, so he compensated by having a weapon that he just had to point and it did the cutting for him.

Leo had gone light on the arms department as well. At his side he had a .367 Revolver, modified with a engraved cylinder and extended barrel. Attached to his back was a lever action rifle, to which he had added a scope. On his belt was a combat knife, more for skinning than fighting, and a couple grenades. To top it off he carried his broadsword, strapped to his pack and wrapped in cloth to protect it.

"It's a long way, so we should get started," Leo said. "Let's head to Indian Springs, after that it's the wide open spaces."

They set out at a steady pace across the relentless Mojave. It was about an hour later, when the sun had moved and hit his eyes, when Arcade realized he had forgotten a hat.

"Tell me something," Arcade said after a while, to break the silence. "When you left, did you find what you were looking for?"

Leonardo glanced at him, his expression difficult to read under his dark sunglasses. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"You just had an air of... Urgency when you left. Like there was something out there you had to find. Or something here you had to get away from."

Arcade knew he was stepping on dangerous ground here. They were friends to be sure, and probably closer than most people in the wasteland ever would be, but Leo had always been mysterious. He rarely talked about himself or his motives, and did not like it when people tried to dig into his personal life. Whatever reason he had left, it had a been a deeply personal one.

Leo was silent for several long minutes, and Arcade instantly regretted asking the question. He didn't respond with anger, though, only a quiet sadness.

"To be honest Arcade," Leo said wearily, "I don't know."

Any further conversation was cut off by the crack of a gunshot. Old instincts took over both of them as they undid the slip knots on there packs and dived behind the nearest cover. Crouched behind two rocks a little ways away from each other, Arcade and Leo drew their guns.

Cautiously, Leo leaned out behind his rock and tried to spot their assailants. It wasn't difficult, as they were standing on top of a nearby hill. Leo counted five, one of which was sprawled on the ground aiming a scoped rifle at them. One stepped forward, who seemed to be their leader.

"Alright," he shouted, "toss away your guns and this won't have to get messy, ya hear?"

"Raiders," arcade snarled, checking to make sure his energy cell was firmly in the pistol. "Got any suggestions?"

"Their too far for me to get a shot off with my pistol," Leo said, studying the area. "Besides, the suns in our eyes. Either their lucky, or this patch of crooks is smarter than I usually give raiders credit for."

Arcade risked a glance at their new foes. "I'd say smart," he commented. "Their armor is covered in brown cloth and rags, it's camouflage. That's why we didn't see them."

"Look," came the leaders voice again. "Ammo is expensive these days, and dealing with corpses is a hassle. Just surrender and this will all go easy for you."

"Tempting offer," Leo mused, "What do you think?"

"I think that sniper is lining up another shot as soon as we move," Arcade said.

"Agreed," Leo replied. "On my word, start painting that hill with plasma. I'll make a dash for my rifle. Ready? Now!"

Arcade leaned out and fired off a rapid fire volley of plasma, mostly aimed at the sniper. A snapping of return fire greeted him, but it was confused and scattered. Leo grabbed his rifle and rolled behind a mound of dirt that provided cover. Acting swiftly, he braced the gun against the ground and peered flown the scope. Lining up a shot, he pulled the trigger. Arcade saw the sniper's rifle fall sideways as its owner gave up the ghost.

The four remaining dove for cover and returned a volley of lead, forcing the duo to cower under the assault. Sensing a break in the fire, Arcade dashed out, firing off plasma as he did. The burning bolt of green hit one of the raiders, who had foolishly stood up to fire, square in the chest. As Arcade took cover again, Leo took another shot that dropped the third assailant. The two remaining had taken cover side by side andante had begun to fire blindly, trying to keep their two foes back.

They waited unroll the fire ceased as the raiders had to reload. At this point Leo shouted out an ultimatum. "Guns on the ground, toss 'em out and you might live! Try to hide one on ya and I swear I'll blow your head off, now drop 'em!"

There was silence for a moment, then it was followed by the clatter of guns and knives as they were tossed into the dirt and rocks.

"What are you doing?" Arcade demanded.

"Giving them a chance," Leo explained.

"I'm all for showing mercy and restraint," Arcade said, "But is now the best time?"

"Just follow my lead, OK?" Leo said, standing up.

Arcade sighed. As always, the courier called the shots, however dumb they might seem at the time.

Together they approached the rock, pistols drawn. Their muscles tensed as they came around one on each side and pointed their weapons at the raiders. The attackers held their hands the the air quivering in terror.

"Al right, lads," Leo said, "you two are a pair of rotten, good for nothing, murderous scoundrels. By all rights we should shoot you both on the spot."

At this they bent their heads away, bracing themselves for the worst.

"But I'm feeling' merciful today," Leo said. "So, on your feet."

They rose slowly. One of them stumbled as he stood and put a hand on the ground for support. Suddenly he flung his hand out and blinded them with a shower of sand in their eyes. Arcade staggered back, firing off a burst of his pistol that went wide.

They tried to make a break for it, but Leonardo threw a punch that caught the first on the jaw, flooring him. Still blind, he heard footsteps and spun, delivering a kick to the others side. The fleeing raider staggered and fell. He tried to rise and run, but a recovered Arcade pressed his gun to his temple. "I'd stay put," he advised mildly.

"I've run out of patience," The courier growled. There was a cracking sound and Arcade heard screams of pain from the raider. The cracks. And again and the raider began to sob. Arcade turned to look and saw the raider curled on the ground, his fingers mangled and bleeding.

The courier strode over to the one Arcade guarded and brought his boot on the man's fingers. The raider screamed in pain as he did it again to the other hand.

He watched in a mixture of fear and awe as Leo grabbed both men by their armor and threw them to the ground again.

"A few miles that way," he explained, "is a new farm, just started up. Yer' fingers will never heal right, so good luck trying to fire a gun right or do any technical work. Still, they might need a couple of farm hands, don't you agree

The two men were shaking in pain and fear, but one managed to nod.

"Good," Leo said. "You go and tell them what happened here. You tell them that you want to work for the crumbs off their table, tell them I sent you and you tell them that I was being merciful."

"Who are you?" one of them asked.

"The Courier," Leonardo said flatly.

Their eyes nearly popped out of their heads. They staggered back, not wanting to turn their backs on the legend of the Mojave.

"You'd best be running," Leo said, "The radscorpions get awful hungry around now."

The two took off running and soon vanished into the distance.

"Well," Leo said, walking back to his bag, "that settles that."

_Chapter two! Thanks for the faves and follows. If you notice any inconsistance with the game, it is probably intentional. Keep reviewing and there is more coming! _


	3. Ignis and Raven

Three years was a long time, and you tend to forget some things over that time. For instance, Arcade had forgotten that Leo was terrifying when he was mad.

They didn't discuss the event; they just gathered their gear and started walking again. The sun baked earth cracked under their feet, the heat only being broken by the occasional breeze. They could see bighorners in the distance, as well as bloatflys and the occasional radscorpion. They were not bothered by anything though, and the rest of the day past in uneventful monotony.

Due to their encounter they arrived later than planned at Indian Springs. It wasn't much, just a collection of ramshackle buildings and huts. It served mainly as a stop for traders before reaching Vegas. It had a store, an inn, and not much else.

Leonardo glanced at the sky, frowning. "Looks we're stopping here for the night," he said. "No sense traveling in the dark."

"No complaints from me," Arcade said, out of breath. "I'm ready to lose this pack."

Leo chuckled. "You haven't gotten soft on me have you?"

"No," Arcade said, rather defensively. "I just haven't had to take several mile hikes through the desert lately."

"Go on in," Leo said, "and see what they have in the way of accommodations. I'm going to take a look around."

Arcade went without comment. As it turned out the "accommodations" was a drafty room full of beds. Still, betters couldn't be choosers and they had slept on worse.

Arcade had finished storing their gear when Leo came in. He sat down on a bed and began to untie his boots.

"If we leave at first light," he said, "We can make it to Elko in a week. Assuming we don't run into trouble again."

"About that," Arcade said, "I've been wondering something. Why did you spare those two guys? We've had our share of fights with bandits, but I've never seen you spare one. Three years ago you would have shot them and left them for carrion feed."

Leo was smoking again. He often used his cigar to buy time in conversation, give himself a chance to think.

"I met some people," he said finally, "in a valley called Zion. They were decent folk, most of 'em anyway. Real religious, too. Anyway, I helped them out of a bind-"

"As your apt to do," Arcade said.

"Right," Leo agreed. "Anyway, hearing them talk about their faith reminded me of something from a long time ago. My father had a belief in God; not a complicated one, but a belief. The New Cannanites, that's the folks I helped, had some odd ideas about the specifics of their faith but the core of it was close to my fathers belief.

"It reminded me of a... Moral center, one I had lost. I realized that if I kept going the way I was, one day I'd go to far."

"So," Arcade asked, "Did you convert?"

"I'm not sure," Leo said. "Let's just say that I think there is something to it, and that I'm looking for answers."

Well, that explained a bit about his friend. Arcade had noticed a different air about Leo, but couldn't put his finger on it. It seemed now that it was the air of change, of becoming someone new. Arcade didn't have much to say about religion , but he hoped that this change would be for the better.

Leo had always been a good guy, by wasteland standards anyway. But as time had gone on he had gotten harsher, crueler, darker. His friends had helped though; Raul, Arcade and... Cass. Cass had been the one to keep him from going over the edge, keep him sane in a world of madness.

"Well, let me know when you find some," Arcade replied. "There are plenty if questions, and we could use some answers."

"Speaking of questions," Leo said, laying back on his bed, "I have one for you, about Cass."

"Shoot," Arcade said.

Leo shifted, trying to get comfortable on the narrow bed. He was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to ask.

"Does she hate me?" He asked, finally.

"What?" Arcade asked, surprised by the question. "Why would she?"

Leo didn't answer that. "Well, did she mention me in any of her letters?"

"Only referring to the past," Arcade answered. "Other than that, no."

"Great," Leo muttered in a tone that suggested the news was anything but.

He was silent for a while, staring at the dirty ceiling. "We should get some rest," he said at last.

Arcade frowned. How could he ask a question like "Does Cass hate me" and offer no reason? Still, it was his life and his affairs, but he could have the decency to explain himself every once in a while.

Arcade let himself drift off to sleep, he was exhausted. He would let his dreams sort out his questions for him.

The next morning they were outside as the sun had just begun to rise. Leonardo checked his Pip-Boy on his wrist and consulted his map.

"It's a long hike," he said. "Let's get going."

"Leo," Arcade interrupted, "Why are we walking? Why don't we take horses?"

Horses were a welcome new addition to the Mojave wasteland. Most had been wiped out or mutated beyond recognition by the bombs, but a vault in California had kept some inside, along with several other animals. Upon their discovery, they spread though the wasteland, especially through the NCR.

Leo stopped and turned. "Horses," he said, surprised. "Of course! I'm still not used to the idea of having them. They'll shave a good few days off our trip."

"And weight off our backs," Arcade added.

They found a merchant selling some horses, mostly scrawny, half fed things made of skin and bone. There were a few good ones among them, but they required Leo spending a good twenty minutes bargaining. Even when he was through, he still felt like he was paying far too much for them.

They bought two, both mares. One was a chestnut color with a white star on its forehead, while the other was pure black, dark as raven feathers.

"Do you have a preference?" Leo asked Arcade.

Arcade stroked the chestnut's nose affectionately. "This one, I think " He said. "I think he likes me."

Leo bough saddles and saddlebags as well, still complaining about the prices. It took them an hour and a half before they were ready to go. With the sun climbing slowly in the sky, they set out.

They both had trouble at first, riding horses being an unfamiliar practice. Arcade had some experience, but it was limited. They soon got the hang of it though and were trotting along steadily.

"Are you going to name him?" Leo asked after a while.

"I suppose I should," Arcade answered, "He is my horse after all. Any thoughts on the matter?"

"How about Chestnut?" Leo suggested helpfully.

"Name it it's color?" Arcade asked, "Where's the originality?"

"You asked for thoughts," Leo countered, "Not originality. It's simple and to the point."

"You might as well call it 'horse' then," Arcade said. He thought for a moment, before saying, "Ignis. I'll call him Ignis. What are you naming yours?"

"Raven," Leo said.

"Your naming a horse after a bird?" Arcade said, grinning, "Now that's absurd."

Leo laughed and the pair rode on, Ignis and Raven carrying their new masters at a steady pace through the merciless wasteland.

**Sorry about the gap in chapters, I've been working on some non-fanfic related work lately. Thank you for the likes, comments and follows, I really appreciate it. If you want me to keep writing, please leave a comment or a like. Seeing those things pop up encourages me to keep going on this story. Anyway, thanks a bunch! -Pendragon**


	4. The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Chapter 4: The Good, The bad and the ugly.

The next few days passed quickly. They rode at a steady pace, talking little. Leo had his radio on to break the silence of the trail. They had used to argue about the radio on their trips, Arcade disliking it due to the same five songs being played again and again. He didn't mind it too much this time though, it was sort of nostalgic.

The selection hadn't changed much over three years. The classic, "Ain't that a kick in the head," came on and Arcade caught Leo humming snatches of it.

The desert was harsh, but beautiful. The sunrise and sunset were majestic, and the clear night skies equally so. At night they camped by the fire, by day they rode their steeds. It was a simple life, with meals made of gecko steaks and maize and with to drink.

Arcade had to admit that he enjoyed it. It bright back the memories of traveling with him before. Of course they had the whole gang then. Arcade missed them; Raul's sarcastic humor, Cass' stories of the wasteland, even Boone's stoic silence. Still, this was pretty close to old times. Of course, it was nice to have the horses this time around.

On the third day of traveling, they encountered something of an adventure.

They were coming over a hill and the sun had begun to slowly fall in the east. Arcade was again reminded that he had forgotten a hat and sunglasses, as he seemed to be every few minutes on this trip. They stopped their horses and looked out over the flat desert before them, scattered with burned out houses and bombed out towns.

Far in the distance was a line of buildings, just visible on the horizon.

"Is that Elko?" Arcade asked, using his hand as a sun visor.

"Yep," Leo said. "Looks like its grown a bit over the years. It's no New Vegas, but it's no Goodsprings either."

They just sat for a moment, giving their horses a moment to rest. Leo was frowning behind his glasses as he looked at the city. The sight should have been encouraging, hopeful. Instead it only gave him a chill down his spine and a feeling of foreboding.

Arcade gave him a curious glance. "Everything alright?" his friend asked.

Leo shook his head as if the clear it. "It's nothing," he said. "Just... Nothing."

Arcade was about to pursue the subject but was interrupted by a blood-chilling scream. The two men turned to see the source, Leo putting a hand to his gun.

At the base of the bill was a battered building made of rusty sheet metal. It appeared to be some sort of ranch, withs several Brahmin inside a fence. A large group of horsemen were surrounding the house, and two were dragging a woman from the house.

As they threw her onto the back of a horse, a man with greying hair burst from the house, shotgun in hand. Shouting obscenities he fired off both barrels, killing one of the horseman. A man with a large, black hat turned and fired his gun, and the man keeled over. An old woman, sobbing, ran out from the house and held tightly to the man, cursing the gunman between her tears as they rode off.

"Yah!" Leo shouted, digging his heels into Raven's flanks. Arcade followed suit, and the pair were charging headlong down the hill. The woman looked up, confused, as they passed the house. Arcade threw his medical kit as he passed, causing it to land next to her on the porch.

The bandits, as they assumed they were, we're a fair ways ahead of them. Arcade counted at least fifteen of them.

"why can we never have a fight that's in our favor?" he grumbled to himself. He forced his horse to catch up to Leo.

"What the plan?" he asked.

"We need to thin their ranks," Leo shouted back over the noise of the galloping horses, "Get them out of the plains!"

Leo pointed to a collection of building nearby, an unoccupied, prewar ghost town.

"How, exactly, do we do that?" Arcade asked.

"I'm working on it!" Leo shouted. He forced Raven to speed up and Ignis followed suit.

"Let's let 'em know we're here," Leo said, drawing his gun. He took careful aim and fired off a round. One of the horses stumbled, hit and the leg, and tripped. It crushed it's rider to death as it fell on him, giving him time only for a brief scream.

The riders looked back and saw the two men giving chase. Arcade, careful not to his his own horse, began firing off plasma. It was slow moving, but would cause some chaos in their ranks.

The pair were gaining on them, but we're now under fire themselves. They ducked low, hearing the lead zip by them by inches. Thankfully, it's hard to shoot from the back of a horse, so it was mostly a matter of luck if they were hit or not and, as he had proven by cheating death at least twice, the courier was very lucky.

In the chaos, Leo didn't notice the figure on top of a nearby hill. The man, sitting on a horse, was aiming as lever action rifle. The shot went unnoticed in the midst of all the others, and Leo assumed the man that fell must have been hit by one of his shots.

The figure took another shot, causing another horse to tumble, leaving its rider in the dust. Slinging the rifle over his back, the rider took off to get ahead of them. The man had to act quickly, for he had a very narrow window to enact his plan.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The chase was still proceeding, and the ghost town was drawing ever closer. Arcade and Leonardo had pulled back a ways, but still followed.

"This is hopeless!" Arcade shouted at him, ducking as he saw a raider fire his gun. "We can't win, Leo!"

Leo was silent, the gears of his mind turning, desperate for some answer. He couldn't leave the girl to her fate, but he couldn't catch, let alone fight off, all of her captors.

Suddenly the sound of hooves was doubled, than tripled. The loud thumping had become a deafening roar. The two men's eyes widened as a huge cloud of dust came around a hill in front of them. It was ahead of horses, dozens of them, all at full gallop. They seemed to form a moving wall, forcing the bandits to turn to avoid running into them. The bandits were now running toward the town , the great mass of horses joining them. They were force to move with them, due to cofusion and their own horses instincts.

"What the-" Leo began, but did not finish.

"Deus ex machina," Arcade muttered. "I suggest we take advantage of... Of whatever is happening."

"Right," Leo agreed, "Circle around to the town and meet them there."

Arcade nodded and sped off at an angle, while Lwo urged his horse to greater speeds.

It was now that Leonardo noticed the man. He wore a poncho and sombrero, looking like an old Mexican cowboy. As he ran toward to chaos of the horses and bandits, he curled up and leaned sideways like a trickshow rider, hiding behind his horse. He vanished into the fray, lost amoung the horses.

Leo saw as he maneuvered his horse between to rather ditracted bandits. He pulled himself up and drew the pair of revolvers in his belt. Pointing one at the head of the man on his right, and one at the man at his left, he pulled the triggers.

He proceeded to become a whirlwind of lead; firing both magnums he dished out death to everyone around him, dropping a fair number. Leo joined him, pulling up alongside a bandit and shooting him in the chest. Seeing some of the bandits escaping, Leo pulled a granade from his belt and threw it, landing it right in front of them. One of the men died in the explosion, and the other two turned back.

They were in the city streets now. Most of the herd of horses had managed to gt away from the fight, leaving the bandits and a few crazed steeds. Most of the bandits had fallen, some by gunshot and some by being trampled to death. There were six left, though only four were on horseback, the other two having lost ther mounts.

One of the men on foot were dropped by the mysterious rider, who then leaped off his horse and took cover in an alley to reload. Leo, also out of bullets, put his gun in his holster and drew the sword he had attached to the saddlebags. He ran by the second man on the ground and caught him with a slash of the deadly blade, sending dark red blood running across the ground.

Three of the men on horseback charged toward Leo, two with guns and one with a long spear. It was at this point that Arcade stepped in. Two bolts of bright green plasma hit the gunmen, killing them instantly. The third kept charging and Leo sped toward him as well. They looked like to knights in a duel, sword verses lance.

When they met, Leo parried the spear and angled his sword toward the man's neck, allowing the momentum of his horse the drive it through his throat. He saw the man's horrified expression for the briefest of moments before he passed him, ripping the sword out as he did.

Leo turned and looked around. Arcade, at the other end of the street, nodded at him. They turned to the last man to finish the job.

"Hold up!" the bandit shouted. It was the one with the dark hat, and he was using the girl as a human shield, a gun to her head.

"Put down your weapons!" he shouted, "Or her pretty face will get a bullet through it!"

Groaning in frustration, Arcade holstered his pistol. Leo put his sword in its scabbard and spread his arms to show he was unarmed.

"Give it up mate," Leo said, "Can't ya tell you've lost?"

The man laughed, rather crazily. "Your a good shot, yours and your friends. But those bozos were just some thugs I hired. I've got friends," he said tapping the barrel of the gun against his hostage's temple, causing her to flinch. "Powerful friends. If you try to hurt me, they'l kill ya."

Leo was stuck. He couldn't move or the girl would die. It struck him how young she was, maybe sixteen? She was terrified, sobbing quietly and shaking like a leaf.

Before he could do anything a gunshot rang out. The man staggered back, grabbing at his throat while the girl fell to the ground and curled up Ito a ball. Not waiting for an explanation, Leo jumped off his horse and ran toward the man. As he did, he saw the poncho clad stranger with a smoking gun leaning out of an alley. He wore a mask, so he couldn't see his face.

The bandit tried to reach for his gun, but Leo ran his sword through his arm, pinning it to the earth and getting a gurgled scream in pain.

"Start talking'" he ordered. "Who are your 'friends'? Answer me!"

The bandit gurgled, the bullet having torn through his throat. He managed to say, "Yer... Yer all dead. They'll... End... You.."

"Who?" Leo demanded, but the corpse had no answers to give. He rose, leaving his sword in the earth for a moment. He turned to the girl, who was still curled up in a ball, and crouched down next to her. He gently touched her shoulder, but she flinched from him.

"Hey lass," he said gently, "I'm a friend. You're safe now."

She looked up slowly, still shaking. "Who... Who are you?" She asked, her southern drawl stammering.

"Lars," he answered, "Leonardo Lars. Are you hurt, miss...?"

"Grace," she said. "Grace Rivers. No, just bruised a bit. I'm lucky you turned up when you did though. Thank you, Mr. Lars."

"Call me Leo," he said, offering his hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. She caught sight of the corpses in the street and shuddered.

Leo led her away from the mess and sat her down on a porch. He retrieved a bottle of water and gave it to her, which she downed with frightening speed.

"Easy there, lass," he said, chuckling, "Don't drown yourself!" He left her to recover and told arcade to check a nasty cut on her arm. Then went to speak with the masked man, who was leaning against the wall.

"Thanks for the help, stranger," Leo said. "What's your name?"

"Aw, come on boss," said a familiar, hoarse voice, "Don't tell me you forgot me already!"

The man removed his mask and revealed his face. Ghoulification was a nasty process and left many ghouls looking the same, but Leonardo would recognize this particular ghoul anywhere. The familiar grin, eyes and the small mustache that had somehow survived his transformation.

"Raul?" Leo asked.

"Yeah, you forgot me," the ghoul said. "That's alright though, I'll fill you in on all our memorable adventures together."

"Raul!" Leo said again embracing his friend. Hugging a ghoul wasn't a pleasant experience, but Leo was too happy to think about that.

"Whoa there, boss!" Raul said. "It's good to see you too, but we don't want to make a scene."

"Sorry," Leo said, smiling. "I thought you We're in Loss Angeles?"

"And I thought you had left the wasteland," Raul countered. "But we can swap stories later, boss. We should think about getting that girl home."

"Right, good point," Leo said. They mounted their horses and Leo helped Grace onto the back of his. They headed back to the farmhouse, Raul leading the way.

_**Yep, everyone's favorite sarcastic, Hispanic ghoul is back! Raul is probably my favorite companion, personality wise. I think things will start getting interesting now that we have more than just Arcade to talk too. **_

_**Thanks for the support thus far. Leave a fave, rating or follow the story if you want to continue supporting it.- Pendragon**_


	5. The Ghost Vaquero

**Chapter Five: The Ghost Vaquero**

They rode back to find the anxious couple waiting for them. The grey haired man was sitting in a rocking chair, his chest bandaged. The woman ran toward them as they approached and embraced Grace as soon as she got off the horse.

"Oh, thank goodness," she said, talking a hundred miles an hour. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you? Is anything broken? What happened to your arm?"

"Grandma, I'm ok," she said, hugging the woman tightly. "Thanks to them," at this she gestured to the three men still sitting on their horses. Leo and Raul tipped there hats and Arcade nodded politely.

The old man, Grace's grandfather, carefully hobbled forward and hugged her as well. He looked at the trio, tears in his eyes.

"Thank you," he breathed. "You can't understand what you have done for us."

"I think we have a decent idea " Raul remarked.

Leo gave him a glance between a warning and amusement. "Your welcome," Leo answered. "We wouldn't be worthy of being called men if we left the lass to her fate."

"Please," the woman said, "come inside and rest and eat. It's the least we can do."

Leo briefly thought about refusing, but he wasn't noble enough to pass up a free meal.

They tied up their horses and headed in. But as Raul was about to step inside, the grandfather stopped him.

"Who's the ghoul?" he asked suspiciously.

Leo frowned. "The 'ghoul' has a name. It's Raul and he happens to be the one who saved your granddaughters life. Is that a problem?"

"Boss," Raul said cautiously, "don't worry about it. I'll wait out here."

"No, you won't," Leo said, his temper rising. "I asked, 'is he a problem?'"

"Certainly not!" the woman exclaimed, joining in. "Ignore my husband, he's just a bit wary."

"Apologies, Mr. Raul," the old man said. "old habits and all that."

Raul assured him that it wasn't an issue and they all went inside.

It was a cozy place, if a bit rough around the edges. The floor had some makeshift carpets on it made of mattress tops and some holes in the sheet metal allowed light in. A fan running on a small generator, kept the room cool. In the center was a large table made of planks. The couple encouraged everyone to sit down and served them their choice of drinks. Arcade and Raul took water, but Leo opted for a scotch.

The learned that the man's name was Sam and the woman's was Helen. The latter was busy fixing an impromptu lunch while the rest sat around to table and talked.

"We were lucky you happened by," Sam was saying. "What brought you out here?"

Leo took a swig of his drink. "We're heading to Elko," he explained, "searching for a friend. At least, Arcade and I were, we met up with Raul during the rescue."

"How do you all know each other?" Grace asked, curious.

Leo pondered how to answer. He didn't want to tell them who he was, assuming they had heard of him.

"We used to travel together," He said. "These guys followed me on all sorts of crazy scraps together."

"What kind of scraps?" Grace wanted to know.

"Oh," Raul answered, "The usual. Raiders, robots, deathclaws."

"Deathclaws?" Grace And Helen exclaimed at the same time.

"You guys took on Deathclaws?" Sam asked, taken aback.

"A few," Leo admitted. "Of course We had a few others with us at the time. A sniper named Boone did most of the work, we just cleared up the stragglers."

Sam shook his head. "There ain't no such thing as stragglers when it comes to Deathclaws. You boys are something else."

"Will you tell us how you did it?" Grace asked.

Leo couldn't help but smile. She was a young woman, and surely knew of the harshness of the world, yet her eyes shone like a child's on the idea of a good story. Even the wasteland couldn't kill all innocence.

So he told them the tale. He explained how they had lead them into an ambush, Boone picking off the largest from a distance and he and the others serving as bait. He described the frenzied run from the monsters to the cliff where Cass had planted the dynamite. The detonation had shaken him to his core, and he watched in wonder as the pack of Deathclaws were crushed under the man made avalanche. He went to great lengths to describe how he took down one of the survivors, but didn't downplay his allies part in it.

"Wow," Grace breathed. "You all live pretty exciting lives."

"That's one word for it," Arcade commented. The other word was crazy.

"Raul," Leo said, "I forgot to ask, where in the blazes did those horses come from?"

The ghoul smiled. "Not a bad idea, huh boss? I there's another ranch not far from here, had a whole slew of horses for the taking. I broke the lock on the corral and got them scared enough to stamped. The timing was tricky though."

"Let's hope Mcfalner doesn't find you," Sam said, chuckling. "That was this years prize herd."

"Oops," Raul said.

"Don't worry," Sam said. "I'll explain it to him. He'll be a grouch about it, but he'll understand."

Helen served them all plates of maize and bighorner stakes. As they ate, Sam asked Leo, "tell me, you said you were looking for a friend. Mind if I ask who? Maybe I can help."

"Rose of Sharon Cassidy is her full title," Leo said, "but she usually goes by Cass. She runs Whisky Rose trading caravan."

"Ah," Sam said, "the foul mouthed girl with a drinking problem?"

Leo smiled. "Yeah, that's her. You know her?"

"She passes through on her way to Elko every now and again. We've traded with her before. In fact she passed through a few days ago."

Leo looked up excitedly. "Really?" he asked. "Than she should still be in Elko."

"I'd reckon," Sam said, lighting a cigarette. "Feel like sharing why your looking for her?"

"It's a long story," Leo said, suddenly feeling awkward. Naturally the man meant nothing by his question, but it had far more implications to Leonardo.

Sam nodded, understanding that he didn't want to talk about it. "You all should stay for the night," he offered. "It's getting dark and there's no sense in traveling by night. You can reach Elko in two days if you leave first thing in the morning."

Leo thanked the man for his hospitality and they set about arranging accommodations. The family didn't have much space, so they arranged to sleep on the carpeted floor. It wasn't much, but they were inside and had something soft beneath their backs.

Raul and Leonardo sat on the porch, watching the setting sun send crimson rays throughout the desert. Leo was smoking, enjoying having a chair to sit in.

"So," he began, "Tell me what you've been up to the last three years."

"Ain't much to tell, boss " Raul said with a shrug. "After you left I hung around New Vegas for a while, but ended up heading to Los Angeles."

"Why there?" The courier asked.

"Well," Raul explained, "it's a rough place, lots of raiders and crooks; but plenty of good people as well. They have it rough out there, so I thought I could help."

"Thus the legend of the Ghost Vaquero was born?" Leo asked with a grin.

"sure, boss," Raul said. "Pretty soon every raider in Los Angeles knew who I was, and I made sure they did not forget."

"Did it work?" Leo asked. "I mean, did things change for the better?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Raul said. "I became enough of a figure that I could scare most raiders off just by showing up. Things really staring improving when I got my assistant though."

"Assistant?" Leo asked. "Who?"

"A wisecracking kid called Jacob," Raul explained. "I saved him from a scrap and he said he wanted to help, so I thought him how to shoot, how to ride. He started dressing like me," Raul gestured to his Vaquero outfit, "Sombrero and everything. Wasn't long before one of his friends wanted in on the deal, so I trained her too. Next thing you know I had a posse of gunslingers following me around."

"I take it they're watching over Los Angeles for you?" Leo guessed.

"Yep," Raul agreed. "They're a good lot, and I pity anyone who has to go up against them."

**"What are you doing in Nevada then?" Leo asked. ""It sounds like you had a pretty good deal in LA."**

**"I got the urge to travel again," Raul said. "Running into you was just a happy accident." **

**They were quiet for a while before Raul spoke again. **

**"These Enclave guys you told me about," Raul said, "I haven't heard much about them. What I have heard has been bad. Want some help?" **

**Leo grinned, "I'd thought you'd never ask." **

**"What's the plan then?" Raul asked.**

**"We know their using the caravans for something, smuggling maybe. Cass can help us with that, so we're looking for her." **

**"Alright boss, but don't expect the warmest of welcomes," Raul warned. **

**"Why?" Leo asked, concern clouding his face. **

**"She may be just a little cross with you," Raul said carefully. **

**"I wouldn't blame her," Leo sighed. **

**Raul. Hanged the subject. "What do you think their using the caravans for. If its smuggling, what would they be moving?"**

**"I wish I knew," Leo said. "Their moves aren't making any sense. They wipe out a pack of feral ghouls, a group of normal ghouls than turn around and abduct an entire town of people. They always want to 'cleanse' the wasteland, wipe out anything irradiated. The ghouls make sense, but the normal people? It doesn't add up."**

**"I suppose the answers will have to wait," Raul said. The sun had set behind the horizon, it's last ray shining out into the growing dark for a brief moment before vanishing into the night. **

**"Let's get some sleep, boss," Raul said. "We've got to get up early tomorrow to make it to Elko."**

**"Go on ahead," Leo said, lighting a cigar and taking a long draw. "I'll be there in a minute." **

**Raul didn't feel like arguing, so he went in. Leo sat outside for a long time, his mind running over a thousand details to a thousand problems. He was coming no closer to any answers, and knew he wouldn't until he got to the caravans. **

**He looked up at the stars that had begun to shine, a few being visible though the clouds. He rose, walking over to the shed where they had stored the saddlebags. He rummaged through them until he found what he was looking for; a bottle of whisky. **

**He smiled, running his hand over the tattered label. he had bought it in Indian Springs while Arcade was arranging their rooms. **

**"A few more days," he said aloud. "Hang on a few more days Rose." **

**Later, several miles to the north, dogs began to bark. There was a rumble of something like thunder and the sound of metal blades spinning in the air, heralding doom to any who heard them. **

_**Rate and review if you would**_


	6. Fire in the Sky

Chapter Six: Fire in the Sky

Leo woke up before the sun rose over the horizon. He got up quietly, careful to make as little noise as possible. He made his way to the front door, which he found unlocked. Moving it carefully to minimize the noise, he went outside.

He found Sam sitting in one of the rocking chairs, cleaning his double barreled shotgun. The old man, without looking up, gestured for Leo to sit down.

Leo took the chair next to him and sat silently for a few minutes, enjoying the rare moment of peace.

"How's your wound," he asked after a while.

"It's doing fine," the man answered. "Courier."

Leo opened his mouth, but no words came. He looks at Sam with surprise, who was still intently cleaning his gun.

"How did you-" Leo began, but was cut off.

"How did I know?" Sam finished. "You don't live long out here without getting observant. The beard and hat help, don't get me wrong, but I would know your face anywhere."

Leonardo took a scrutinizing look at the man. "I know you, don't I?" he asked.

"Not personally," Sam replied. "I was one of the NCR soldiers at the dam, fighting the legion. You came by and shook my hand, told me you were glad to see that age wouldn't stop a man from fighting for his home."

"I think I remember," Leo said. "I shook a lot of hands that day."

"I don't blame you for forgetting," Sam said. "At the time I was just excited to meet you, same as everyone. I had heard so many stories about you, and I never forget a face."

"I'm glad you made it through that battle," Leo said. "We lost too many people that day."

"Indeed," the old veteran agreed. "My son died in that fight. Took a spear through his lung. He told me to take care of his daughter, to protect her with everything I had. So I did. I retired and we moved out here."

"I'm sorry about your son," Leo said.

"People die in wars," Sam replied. "We all knew that. He could die from the wasteland or die for his home, he chose the better end.

"Sorry," Sam said, "I'm rambling about things that you don't care about."

"I do care." Leo assured him.

"Thank you," Sam said. "Now tell me, why are you hiding?"

Leo thought for a moment before answering, lighting his cigar.

"I can't afford the time," he answered. "If people knew that I was back, everyone and their brother would be asking for my help or trying to exact revenge on something I did to them. What I'm doing is too important to waste the time."

"Yet you helped us," Sam observed.

"I know what happens to young girls who run into raiders," Leo answered simply. "If I didn't act, I'd be sentencing her to that fate."

"Honor," Sam mused. "Few have it, and those that do usually wind up dead. We're lucky to have people like you out in the wastes."

Leo went quiet at this, a contemplative look on his face. Yes, he had honor, a code he lived by. It was a loose, undefined code, but it was something. Still, he was far from the saint people made him out to be.

"Mind if I ask what this important mission your on is?" Sam asked.

"Ever hear of the Enclave?" Leo asked. He explained, not in great detail but enough to get his point, his goal and his reasons.

"Huh," Sam said. "Another war already? You'd think that the wasteland was enough of a battle, but people keep going and making trouble anyway."

Leo smiled grimly, "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that people are never satisfied with the trouble they have; they just keep making more."

The two warriors sat and watched as the sun came up over the horizon. The light spread, lighting up the desert slowly.

"I'm sorry about the ghoul, I mean Raul," Sam said. "I've got old habits that die hard."

"I understand," Leo said. He knew that plenty of people were raised to hate ghouls, feral or otherwise. "He's a good guy, a bit rude maybe, but good."

"I don't get the outfit though," Sam admitted. "Can't decide if it's intimidating or ridiculous."

Leo chuckled. "It was something from his culture," Leo explained, "something from before the great war."

Sam gave Leo an incredulous look. "That would make him-"

"Really, really old," Leo finished. "It's kind of hard to get you head around, I know. You'd expect him to be different, being around that long, but he sure doesn't show it."

"Wonders never cease," Sam muttered.

"You won't spread word that I'm back in the Mojave will you?" Leo asked.

"Of course not," Sam answered. "I won't even tell my family if you don't want me to. Though Grace would be thrilled if she knew."

Leo smiled. "Wait till we've left, then you can tell her if you want."

The couriers eyes narrowed as he looked out toward Elko. The morning light had spread enough to illuminate the distant city, and he could see smoke rising in a great column from it.

"Do you see that?" Leo asked, pointing.

Sam was silent for a moment. "Something's hit that city," he said. "Could be raiders, but to set the whole place on fire?"

Leo jumped to his feet. "We have to go," he said, his mind going to Cass. She was somewhere in there, and he had to get to her before something else did.

Leo went and woke up the others, explaining the situation. Arcade and Raul got ready in minutes an the three of them went and got their horses saddled and ready. Leo was pacing, impatient.

"Leonardo," Sam said, coming towards him. He handed him something wrapped in a white cloth. "Breakfast," he explained. "Eat it on the way."

Leo clasped him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Sam," he said. "For everything."

"Your welcome," he said. "Now get going and find your friend, time ain't on your side."

The trio mounted their horses and set off at a gallop, leaving Sam staring after them.

Grace stumbled out of the house, rubbing her eyes. "Grandpa?" she asked. "What's happening? Why did they leave?"

Sam put an arm around her. "They have people to save," Sam explained simply.

Grace saw the smoke and her eyes widened. She saw the horses galloping away in the distance and turned to her grandfather. "Who were they?" she asked, sensing their visitors were more than they had let on.

"Come inside," he said, "You'll never guess who that Leo fellow was."

After an hour of hard galloping, Raul caught up with Leonardo.

"Leo!" He shouted, "Your going to run that horse to the ground, slow down!"

Leo grimaced but complied. The three slowed to a trot, the horses breathing heavily.

"I know we need to hurry," Arcade said, "But killing our horses isn't going to get us anywhere."

"I know," Leonardo said, sighing. He knew that he couldn't will the distance to be shorter, but he could t stop himself from thinking about what was happening in the city.

"Is any way for a short cut?" Leo asked desperately. "Any way at all?"

"Nope," Raul said simply. "Just flat ground from here to there."

"Then we ride day and night," Leo ordered.

"Boss," Raul began.

"No arguments," Leonardo interrupted. "If the horses die from exhaustion then we run on foot." Without waiting to hear a response, he set off at a run.

"He's thinking about Cass," Arcade said.

"Let's hope she's still there to find," Raul said.

"I'd rather she wasn't there," Arcade replied.

"That would be better," Raul said, kicking his horse to catch up with Leo. "But it's not likely. Come on, Cass needs our help; screw common sense!"

Raul took off after the courier and Arcade after him. The three pounded across the rough terrain, the hooves kicking up a large cloud of dust. The horses were pushed to their limits and beyond, but they seemed to sense the urgency and only went faster at their masters bidding. Rare would be the race that would match this one. This was a race against an unseen clock, trying to outrun an explosion when you couldn't see the bomb.

They ran on, the silent timer ticking away.

Nathan Lynch was feeling good. He looked over Elko as it burned, as it's people fled from the army of raiders that swarmed through it. the raiders were joined by troops in power armor, their energy weapons vaporizing the fleeing citizens as they ran. Verti-birds flow over the city, making strafing runs on those below and keeping an eye on the chaos. And Nathan Lynch stood above it all like an Olympian god.

"Look at em," he remarked to his guards. "They're running like ants down there."

"Except ants are dumb enough to fight back, Mr. Lynch," a southern accent replied cooly.

Lynch turned, eyeing his grey haired visitor with a degree of annoyance. "We've got this under control Colonel. Don't you have people to bow to and boots to lick somewhere else?"

The colonel glared at the young raider, his dark eyes flashing. "Do not insult me, Lynch," he warned. "I gave you power, and I can take it away."

"Fine, your lordship," Lynch mocked. "Why are you still here?"

"Operations of this magnitude work best with a ... Personal touch," he explained, pacing over to the window. They were in a high office building that provided a good view of the city. "I want to make sure my investment pays off."

"It will," Lynch said. "So long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

"Yes, yes," The colonel said shortly. "You and your raiders can have this sinkhole of a town without any interference from us. Just be sure to hold up your end of our arrangement."

Lynch smiled. "Don't you worry your gray head about that. We'll do it."

"See that you do," the colonel said. He flinched, gripping his shaking arm in quiet pain. Reaching into the pockets of his uniform he pulled out a syringe and injected himself. The shakes stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I thought the military didn't do chems," Lynch remarked, grinning. "What's your fix? Buffout? Med-X? Maybe your a Hydra kind of guy."

"What my 'fix' consists of is no business of yours," the colonel snapped.

Lynch shook his head, grinning. "Fine, keep your secrets. If you change your mind I can get you a good deal on whatever your hooked on.

The Colonel didn't reply to that. "What's the status on the city?" He asked.

"In flames," Lynch replied, joining him at the window. "Were killing most of the civilians and anyone who resists. Anyone we don't kill is being rounded up for the pits."

"Of course," The Colonel replied, "Undoubtedly for your barbaric games."

"Naturally," Lynch agreed. "We should have full control by nightfall."

"Don't forget that it was my troops and resources that gave you the edge here, Mr. Lynch. We wouldn't want this going to your head."

Lynch gritted his teeth. "Your men may have had the firepower, but mine are the ones bleeding out for this place. I'd advise that you remember that."

"Of course," The Colonel answered. He felt a vibration in his pocket and pulled out a communicator. He glanced over the message and put it back in his pocket.

"I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere," The Colonel said, turning to go.

"Good," Lynch said, "I've got a city to run."

The Colonel made to the stairs before he stopped.

"Mr. Lynch," he said, without turning around. "The enclave are powerful allies to have, but we are also terrible enemies to face. Keep that in mind as you play king."

"Oh, I'll remember," Lynch muttered as the man vanished downstairs. "Colonel Autumn."

**_Villians! Duhn, duhn duuuhn!_**

**_It should be noted that I'm on a bit of a writing streak right now and there is no garantee of how long it will last. Basicly, don't get too used to the frequent updates._**


	7. Thicker Than Water

**Chapter Seven: Thicker Than Water**

Leonardo peered down his scope, scanning the city. It was silent, silent as a tomb. Smoke still hung in the sky and rubble filled the streets. Not a soul moved in the buildings or on the streets.

"What's the word, Boss?" Raul asked him.

"Ghost town," Leo answered. "Arcade?"

The scientist was looking through a pair of binoculars. "Nothing," he said. "It looks empty."

Leo frowned. "Ok," he said, "This is weird. If there was a fight the winner would be patrolling, guarding his new land. And, not to be morbid, but the losers would be dead in the streets.

"Maybe we'll see something if we move further in," Arcade suggested.

"Yeah," Raul agreed with a snark, "Like our coming deaths."

"We go in," Leo decided. "Check your corners and keep your guns at the ready."

The trio moved up from their cover toward the city. Their horses were in the shelter of a rock a fair distance away. They had ran for almost a full day and had collapsed in exhaustion. If all went well they would be back to them by nightfall. Then again, no one really expected things to go well.

They came into the streets carefully, keeping a wary eye out and moving between cover like the experienced fighters they were. Raul and Leonardo had their lever action rifles, though Leo had taken the scope off of his due to its clumsy close range nature. Arcade felt at a distinct disadvantage with his plasma pistol. It was powerful, but limited in range and accuracy.

Arcade sniffed the air. He had noticed a smell earlier, but it was more pronounced now.

"Something stinks in here," he muttered.

Leo felt a growing sense of unease. His stomach churned, telling him something was terribly wrong here. He couldn't figure out what it was though. That is, I till they rounded the corner.

The three stared in horror at the street before them. Only Raul managed a quiet, "whoa," in response to the sight.

The street was filled with ashes and corpses. There were piles of ash everywhere, and fleeing footsteps frozen in them. The corpses of men, women and even a few children were scattered among them, cut down by bullets. Then there were the true horrors; those that the lasers had only half burned. They were skeletons, charred and with bits of flesh rotting on them. Most had seemed to fall in the act of fleeing.

"There must be hundreds," Arcade breathed, shocked by the massacre.

Leo fought down the nausea, he had a job to do.

"Come on," he said coldly. "Let's find out what happened here." He went to inspect a corpse and his companions forced themselves to check the area as well.

Arcade inspected a pile of ashes. Grimacing, he ran his hand though it. He shook the ash off his hand. "It's still warm," he said, disgusted, "only just though."

Leo examined the corpse of a man. "This is recent," he said. "These people haven't been dead long."

"They also have the most powerful laser and plasma weapons I've ever seen," Arcade said. "Not even the brotherhood have anything of this caliber. The only people who could own something like this would be..." he didn't finish the thought, realization dawning on him.

"The Enclave," Leo finished grimly.

"They must have made some friends," Raul called out. "Because I don't think the Enclave does this to people."

Arcade and Leonardo came to Raul, coming around the opposite side of a bus stop that blocked their view. A man was nailed to a wall, cut open and mutilated in a horrible fashion.

"Raiders," Leo said. "Sadistic psychos."

The three stood there a moment, unsure of what to do. Their query was answered when a piece of rubble next to them suddenly exploded.

"Cover!" Leo shouted and the three scrambled for shelter. Lead rained in around them as they took shelter in a nearby building.

"Guess they stuck around," Raul observed, casually checking his gun.

"How many do you figure?" Arcade asked.

Leo peeked out of cover and took a quick estimate.

"No clue," he said. "I don't see any of them." his comment was answered by another hail of lead.

"Building," Raul said, "Second floor."

"The street too," Arcade said. "There... There's dozens of them!"

Leo glanced out again. He took a sharp breath at the sight. There was a wall of raiders, hollering and shouting as they charged down the streets. Apparently they had been waiting for the guns to start shooting.

"What did we get ourselves into, boss?" Raul asked.

Leo didn't answer that. "Aim for the streets," he ordered. "We'll stay in cover from the building and pick them off as they come."

The next several minutes were lost in the fury of bullets and blood. Raul and Leo dropped the raiders like skeet at a shooting gallery, while Arcade rained plasma into their midst. But for every one they killed, two more seemed to rush at them.

Leo grimaced as he reloaded. They were strung out on drugs, too high to care if they lived or died. It made them easy targets, but much more dangerous. The wave of men were getting closer, no matter how much lead and plasma they threw at them, and they were running out of ammo.

"Fall back!" Leo shouted, pointing to a room in the building behind them. They made a dash for it, narrowly avoiding the gunfire from the building across from them.

The room was small and a dead end. Not much room to maneuver and nowhere to run.

Raul drew his revolvers and stood in the doorway, ignoring the bullets landing around him. He fired off both guns, dropping at least one enemy with each shot. The board was getting closer though, and he ran out of lead.

The three took cover. They had moments before their foes would be upon them. Leo took his knife and tossed it to Raul, who now had one in each hand. Arcade took out his ripper and leaned against one side of the doorway. Leo drew his sword and leaned against the other. They all shared a look and a nod, knowing that these would probably be their last breaths.

They poured in. There was the sound of a motor and of tearing flesh as Arcade thrust his ripper into the oncoming raiders. Raul was a whirlwind of slashing and stabbing, a pile of corpses growing at his feet. Leonardo cut in great swipes of his blade, the fire of battle in his eyes.

Soon Leonardo's vision was obscured by the hoard of men. He felt a splintered pool cue run through his side and a lead pipe being smashed against his skull. His vision flickered and faded, the world going fuzzy. The repeated hammering on his skull went from splitting pain to dull throb. He blindly fought on, but his vision began to fade away, until there was nothing but black. The last thing he remembered was the blood of his foes on his skin, the savage battle cries of his friends, and the sweet embrace of darkness.

Nathan Lynch downed his shot of alcohol, his feet propped up on his desk. He breathed in the still smokey air, enjoying the taste of the destruction he had caused. His black hair, which contrasted with his pale skin, was long and fell over one green eye. His other eye was a pale blue, a fact which often disoriented strangers. He was not wearing his usual armor now, instead he wore a simple pair of pants and a shirt. There was no need for the added protection; he was a king.

The scantily clad woman next to him wrapped her arms around him kissing him gently. He returned the gesture, enjoying the company. It was good being on top of the food chain for once.

His enjoyment was cut off by a knock on the door. He frowned in annoyance.

"I'm busy," he snapped, turning his attention to his mistress.

"Sir, it's important," came a voice from the other side.

Lynch nearly growled with annoyance. "Fine," he said. "Enter."

A short, well built man with brown hair and an eyepatch entered the room. He bowed his head to his leader before speaking.

"Nathan, I'd like a word. In private," he said nodding to the woman still sitting on Lynch's lap.

Lynch waved her away, still frustrated. The woman gave him one more kiss before getting up and leaving the room. Once she had, the man with the eyepatch locked the door.

"What's the point of being the king if I can't enjoy it?" Nathan snapped. "Well, go on Xander. What is it?"

"We captured three more people," Xander said. "Two men and a ghoul."

"So?" Lynch asked, pouring himself another shot. "Why should I be notified?"

"They were from outside," Xander explained. "They fought like devils and killed at least fifty men, maybe more."

"Fifty?" Lynch asked raising an eyebrow. "I certainly hope you didn't kill them. We need some good fighters for the pits."

"We'll see if they live," Xander said. "The ghoul is a tough monster, he'll be fine. The other two took quite a beating, we should know if they will pull through by tomorrow."

"Good," Lynch said. He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at Elko. Fires burned in trash bins, the occasional gunshot rang out and a muffled scream as someone was stabbed in the back. The street rabble were already working out the food chain of their own accord.

"You know Xander," Lynch said aloud, "I think people have us raiders all wrong. They say we're the trash, the scum of the wasteland. You know what I think? I think we're the smart ones. We know how the world works.

"The NCR wants everyone to be equal, everyone to be happy. They're too blind to see the truth; no one can be equal and not everyone can be happy. They want to protect the weak, but they can't see that only the strong survive out here.

"The NCR has ideals and ideas, but we have the truth. It ain't pretty, but it's truth. Are we brutal? Sure, but so is the world. In the end, we're the ones who will be left standing when the dust settles, because we're the ones who did what it took to live."

"Your getting dangerously close to eloquent there, Nathan," Xander said.

"I've read a few books," Lynch answered. It was true, he was one of the few riders who knew how to read. He read anything he could get his hands on, ever since he was young. He was always eager to learn, and never hesitated to use his knowledge to his advantage

"How are the prisoners?" Lynch asked.

"Scared, obedient," Xander answered. "Well, most of them."

"Got some trouble makers?" Lynch asked.

"One in particular. A woman, a caravan trader I think. She wouldn't shut up, and when we tried to make her she nearly bit Dave's finger off. We finally managed to gag her and lock her up, but she's still a handful."

"More potential for the pits," Lynch said.

"Nathan," Xander said, "Tell me something. What's the point of the pits? I know it's for entertainment, but it's also a risk. Why chance it?"

Lynch returned to his chair and gestured for Xander to take a seat himself.

"Let me explain," he began. "We want to create a city for ourselves, right? We need the people as slaves to build it, repair it, and serve us. But slaves will always revolt if they have no other option. The pits are their other option. By giving them a chance to fight for their freedom, they will be less inclined to revolt. Instead they will focus on winning the games."

"But won't they realize organizing themselves is a better plan?" Xander asked.

"It's human nature, Xander," Lynch said. He produced a second glass and poured the drink into both it and his own as he spoke. "Why risk getting caught plotting with others when you can free yourself without getting in trouble? People are selfish and narrow minded. They're sheep, and without a shepherd they will do as their told. And, if a shepherd happens to show up, we will kill him."

Xander shook his head. "You sure thought this out," he observed.

Lynch tapped the side of his head, smiling. "That," he said, "Is why I'm running the show. But I need people I can trust by my side to keep me safe. Which is why I have you."

Xander picked up his glass. "I've got your back, boss," he said. "I always have and I always will."

"You have always been like a brother to me," Lynch said. "Closer than any brother of my own blood could ever be." He picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. "To what really matters," he said, "Family."

Xander tapped his glass against Lynch's. "To family," he agreed. They downed their drinks together.

Lynch smiled. Family born of the blood of your enemies was a stronger bond than any family born of the same mother. He had a brother, a kingdom and the finest drink he could ask for.

"Life is good today, brother," he said. "Life is good."

_**I want to thank you all for the support thus far. With every review, favorite and follow I recive it makes me want to finish this story more. I hope you have all been enjoying it up to this point and I hope you will enjoy where it is going. Thanks again for the support! **_


	8. Tartarus

Chapter Eight: Tartarus

Leo awoke to freezing water hitting his face. He gasped and spluttered in shock looking around. He was in a dark, dank room. He was suspended in the air by chains wrapped around his wrists and his side and head ached.

There was a bald, nasty looking man in front of him grinning at him with a set of decaying teeth.

"Mornin' sunshine!" he said in strange accent. Not even knowing what Britain was, he couldn't know that it was a rough cockney accent, common in the prewar British lower class.

"Caught up on your beauty sleep?" the man asked.

Despite his pain, Leo managed a snark. "Not quiet," he muttered, "Give me five more minutes." At this he closed his eyes, as if intending to claim those minutes of rest.

The man punched him in the gut, right where the spear had ran through his side. Leo let out the beginnings of a scream, but stifled it. He couldn't stop the muffled gasps of pain though.

"Wise guy, eh?" the man asked, grinning. "That'll change soon enough."

"Only... If... You ask... Nicely," Leo managed to mutter out. He was answered with a punch to his face.

"Shut it, dog," he snarled. The man looked at him, shaking his head. "Your the one who killed fifty of our blokes?" he asked. "I find it hard to believe."

"Let me loose and I'll give you a demonstration," Leonardo growled.

"Not likely," the man said. "Don't worry though, you'll get plenty of chances to show off in Tartarus."

"Tartarus?" he asked. He knew the name. It was part of Greek myth, a pit deep beneath the earth that the gods cast the titans into as a prison and a place of torture.

"That's what Lynch calls it," the bald man said, his back turned. "He says we all have to call it that, though I don't know what it means."

"Who's this Lynch fellow?" Leo asked.

"Non of your concern," the man spat. "Now shut up. You'll want to save your breaths; you may not have many left."

With these comforting words, he left the dark room, a rusty, squealing door announcing his departure.

Leonardo tried to get comfortable, but had no success. He ran the events of the previous day over in his mind. Or was it yesterday? Come to think of it, he had no idea how long he had been down here. He tried to look down at his pip-boy to check the date, only to find it had been removed. Not having the heavy piece of metal on his wrist was a strange, and honestly a little unnerving, sensation.

Leo stared into the darkness, wondering what had become of Raul and Arcade. Were they tied up like him somewhere? Perhaps they were already dead, killed in the fight or by their captors.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door again. It was not the nasty looking man this time, though, but a young boy.

He looked to be about thirteen years old. He was dirty and dressed in rags, from what little Leo could see of him. He carried a sack of something and approached cautiously.

"What do you want, lad?" Leo asked tiredly.

The boy was surprised by the voice and stuttered out, "They, they sent me to tend to your wounds."

His voice was small, timid, afraid. He pulled something from the sack and set to work on Leo's side. He smeared some sort of paste into the wound, which made it burn like a swarm of fire ants were stinging the gash.

"Your not one of them, are you lad?" Leo asked, trying to ignore the pain.

The boy shook his head. "N-no sir," he said. "But they said if I did what they t-told me, I would get to eat." He spoke with a distinctive stutter.

"Got any family?" Leo asked.

"D-Dead," the boy replied simply, masking his grief behind a facade of acceptance. "They killed them."

"I'm sorry," Leo said.

"I hear you gave them a b-beating, sir," the boy said.

"I took a good share of them," Leo agreed. He decided to change the subject, wincing again as he spoke. "What's your name, kid?"

"P-p-paul," he said.

"I'm Leo," Leonardo said.

"Good to meet you, Mister Leo," Paul said, bandaging the wound.

"Tell me," Leo asked, "How long have I been here?"

"A few days," Leo answered. "They haven't been able to wake you until now."

"Have you seen the others who were with me? A ghoul named Raul and a man named Arcade?"

The boy shook his head. "No, sir," he said. "I haven't. Th-though a ghoul would probably be locked up in their own cage."

"Naturally," Leo sighed. "Can you tell me about this Lynch fellow? He sounds like the top dog around here."

"H-he is," Paul confirmed. "He runs the band if r-raiders that took over the town, along with some p-people in armor."

"What sort of armor?" Leo asked, suddenly interested.

"S-scary. It was black and g-glowed in some places."

"Enclave," Leo said. "It had to be the Enclave." Of course this wasn't all bad news. There was a chance he could pick up a lead here; assuming he survived.

"Why do they want me alive?" Leo asked.

"S-sport," Paul answered. "Their am-amusement. Gladiator games."

"Sounds like legion," Leo said. He coughed, the act sending pain through his chest. He needed to rest, and could feel the looming darkness of sleep approaching him. He had one more question though.

"Paul," he asked, "Is there a woman named Cass here?"

"I-I haven't heard of her," he said. "What d-does she look like?"

"Pale skin," he began. "Her hair is red as fire and she has a temper to match. Her eyes are a deeper blue than you can imagine." Whatever was in that medicine, Leo felt like it must be some kind of drug. He was usually more restrained about his description of Cass.

"She sounds p-pretty," Paul said.

"She is," Leo agreed. His vision began to fade as the pain and the medicine began to take hold.

"I-I will look for her," Paul promised. "And I'll b-be back."

Leo nodded limply before passing out once more.

Leo had no way of knowing how long it was before he came to. He only knew that he had been hit in the face with a lead pipe.

"Wakey wakey!" the torturer said with a sadistic grin. "The boss man has some questions, maybe you can answer them, eh?"

"Sure," Leo groaned, "What's he want to know?"

The man seemed surprised by the response. "Where did you come from?" he asked.

"The grave," The courier said with a grin. He was rewarded by another hit of the pipe.

Thus began the game of question and answer that would take up many hours. The methods changed; sometimes he used a pipe, other times he wielded a white-hot iron, but Leo managed to not reveal anything. He kept up a near constant stream of insults and sarcasm, masking the pain the best he could. At some point the man, who had revealed his name to be Saul, gave up and left him again.

This went on for some time, Leo guessed several days. His arms became stiff from hanging, his wrists chaffed. His back burned from the marks of a whip, his chest with the multitudes of burns and marks. The worst was his side though, where he had been run through with a spear. Saul knew enough about his craft so he could keep the wound in pain, but not kill his subject. It ached every moment of the day, and even appeared in Leo's brief dreams he had between beatings.

The only thing that made him smile was Paul. The young boy brought him food and water, more than a prisoner should be brought. He kept up his search for Leo's friends, but couldn't find Cass or Raul. He did, however, locate Arcade.

"He's secretly taking care of us," Paul whispered as he held up a bottle of water for Leo to drink. "They d-don't know he's a doctor. If they did, they would take him to take care of them."

Leo swallowed the precious substance. He had forgotten how sweet water tasted.

"Make sure he keeps it that way," Leo said, his voice horse. "Tell him to stay strong, and that I'm working on a plan."

Paul looked at him curiously. "B-but your all tied up and hurt," he said. "How can y-you be working on a plan?"

Leo smiled, despite his pain. "You don't need your hands to think," he answered. "I've been thinking since I got in here, and I'm starting to come up with a plan. I'll have to get out of this torture chamber first though."

"I think they will be letting you out soon," Paul said. "But y-you'll be headed straight for the p-pits."

Leo frowned; this would complicate things. He had been getting information from Paul about the place, and the pits were bad news. They were primitive gladiator games, not unlike the Legions arena. The slaves fought and killed, hoping for a chance at freedom.

"Let me worry about that," Leonardo said. "Do me a favor and keep an eye out for anything that could be used for a bomb. Gunpowder, pilot lights, cherry bombs, anything like that. Just don't get caught, and don't risk your neck for it."

Paul nodded and then left, leaving Leo alone in his thoughts.

In his mind, a chess piece moved into place. Arcade would have a role to serve in the plan that formed in his mind. He could only see some of the pieces though, and could not act until he found the rest.

**_I know this is filler, sort of. It should tide you over till the next chapter though. _**


	9. Plans

Chapter Nine: A Shepherd

_**Bet you thought I was gone, huh? **_

_**Anyway, no promises on the nest chapter, but sorry for this one being kind of short. I'll try to make the next one longer and be a little more consistant with updates now that I remembered this little story was here. **_

_**Thanks for sticking around!  
**_

The man flinched as Arcade shoved his arm back into position. He continued to bite back a scream as the doctor set a splint and bound it tightly to his arm. As Arcade finished he finally let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Doc," he said. "Thanks to you, I'll be able to get back into the pits."

"Yes," Arcade said dryly, "back to your prestigious career."

Arcade double checked the wrap. It was secure and would do the trick, makeshift as it was. The raiders were better at storing drugs, chems and alcohol than medical supplies. He had managed to gather a decent supply though.

"How long will this take to heal?" the man asked, shifting awkwardly.

"A week at least," Arcade said, "but I wouldn't recommend a fight until at least three."

The man shook his head. "A week will have to do," he said. "I have my last fight coming up. If I win this one I get to go free."

Arcade looked up at the man. His eyes gleamed with hope, such a rare sight. However, his hope was through blood and death; a snap of a neck and a two by four to his foes head. It was a hope of pain and sorrow, but it was the only one he had.

"I wish you luck I suppose," Arcade said. "Now, go and get some rest."

The man got up and walked to the only real room the pit contained; a jail cell with a moth eaten bed that was kept for the current champion. Everyone else slept in corners, hallways or out on the floor. Looking around, Arcade breathed a sigh and glanced at his watch. He had about twenty minutes before the raiders would come and fetch him. Twenty minutes to find Leo.

Of all the positions to be in under the circumstances, Arcade had fared pretty well. As soon as the raiders discovered he was a doctor, he was taken to a man named Lynch, their leader. It had played out as he suspected it would. He was given the choices of serving them or dying, and naturally he chose to serve. He figured he would have a chance here, someway to find the others and help those he could.

He sidestepped a woman laying on the ground, moaning in pain. He stopped and knelt down, checking her pulse and holding open an eyelid. He sighed again. The problem wasn't that he didn't know how to help; all he needed was a stimpack, some mentats mixed with cactus juice and some clean water, but he had no access to the materials. He mumbled some pointless words of comfort and moved on.

The pits had to be the most horrible places he had ever seen, and he had walked into Caesar's fortress. Bodies lined the walls, no way of knowing if they were living or dead. Sickness ran rampart, coughing and gagging filling his ears. The stench of death and human waste was ever present. Somewhere he heard the screams of prisoners as they were tortured; not for information or any sort of purpose, but simply for the pleasure of an others torment.

Arcade kept his head down as he passed the sick and dying. He couldn't meet their pleading gaze. He couldn't help them, he didn't have the means. He had to find Leo.

He approached a metal door with a bored looking man in front of it. It was one of the raider torturers, the only ones who stuck around for any period of time here. The metal spikes on hi shoulders where coated with dried red blood. He looked up at Arcade as he approached, frowning.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What's your business?"

"Are you Saul?" Arcade asked.

"Yeah," the man answered. "But you haven't answered my questions yet."

"Arcade Gannon," he said. "I'm a doctor. Xander told me to check up on the recruit before he got sent to the pits." Arcade was always slightly bothered by how easily lying came to him. Sure, it came in handy, but the fact that there was no change in his tone, no sense of unease in the action always left him feeling a little disturbed.

Saul's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That ain't normal. Besides, I know my trade. He'll be fit for the pits, trust me."

"Lynch himself has his eyes on this one," Arcade retorted. "If you want to take it up with him, be my guest."

Saul frowned, but stepped aside. "Make it quick," he snapped.

Bowing his head in a pretense of thanks, Arcade entered the dark room. It was darker than the halls outside, nearing on pitch darkness. The only source of illumination was a closed furnace, where orange lines of fire could be seen around the closed door, and a red-hot crowbar casting it's glow in the shadows. From this, Arcade could see a figure hanging from chains in the ceiling, and had to stifel a gasp of shock.

"Leo," he said, "Leo, is that you?"

The man looked up, familiar blue eyes meeting his. He was little more than a skeleton now, his bones almost more visible than his muscle. His exhausted, pained face managed a genuine smile at his friend, despite the circumstances.

"Hey Doc, good to see ya," his familiar accent was wheezy, but resilient. "Was wonderin' when you would show up."

Arcade almost asked if he was OK, but bit back the stupid question. Instead he opened up his doctors bag and began to rummage through it as he spoke.

"I don't have much time," he explained. "They'll be back for me in a moment. Paul's been filling me in on your 'plan'."

"And?" Leo asked.

"I think it's stupid, idealistic, unrealistic and foolish," Arcade said sharply. "But, since it's you suggesting it, I'm behind it one hundred percent."

"Glad to have your opinion on the matter," Leo said dryly. "Have you gathered the materials?"

"Some of them," Arcade said. "Not as many as I would like. Still, it should be enough, if we place them right. What will be harder is the weapons; a lead pipe doesn't do much good against a sniper rifle."

"I'm working on that," Leo said. "Have you found Rual?"

"Yes," Arcade said. "He's filled in and ready to play his part, though he doesn't really like it. Still, he's pragmatic enough to understand it. He's not that bad of an actor, if you want a zombie anyway.

"Good," Leo said, sighing. He flinched as Arcade stabbed a stimpack into his chest. "Any word on Cass?"

Arcade shook his head. "Not much. I managed to confirm she is here, and alive, but nothing else... I'm sorry."

Leo grimaced as another needle was stabbed into him, this time his shoulder. "She'll turn up," Leo said. "She has too."

Arcade regarded his friend with concern. The tone of his voice was still the commanding strategist, but there was a note of desperation behind the bravado. There was the sound of a man in... well, it had been to long to say for sure what relationship the two had. Regardless, Leo needed here to be there. Not on any physical level of strategy or planning, but on an emotional one.

Perhaps the days of torture had started to crack his calm demeanor, his firm instance that everything was fine. Started to crack, not broken.

Leo composed himself. "Start spreading the word," he ordered. "Drop a phrase here, a story there. You know the drill."

Arcade nodded, stabbing and withdrawing the last needle. "Will do. You should be good to go now, as good as you can be after this ordeal. Knowing you, though, you could take down a deathclaw in this state."

"Please don't temp fate," Leo said. "It hasn't been kind to me lately. They'll be coming soon, you should go. Make sure everything is in place. Tomorrow is only the first step."

Arcade grabbed his bag and turned to go. He stopped at the door. "Leo," he said. "I don't know how that so called faith of yours is right now, but a prayer couldn't hurt." With that, he left the room. The door swinging closed with a creek of rusty hinges and a clang of metal.

Alone in the darkness again, Leo closed his eyes. Weather in prayer or in slumber, only he knew.


End file.
